


Shut Up

by giantteenwolforgy



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Bottom Stiles, Knotting, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:17:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giantteenwolforgy/pseuds/giantteenwolforgy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles faintly registers the door slamming behind Scott, but he's too incensed to do much more than tremble. The slope of Derek's neck is inches away and Stiles wants to suck so hard it <i>hurts</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shut Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBeastsWrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBeastsWrite/gifts).



> Happy Holidays Ara! I tend to be strictly a fluff-writer, so doing something rougher and dirtier was a fun challenge for me :) Hope you like it! It's really nothing but porn :p

"What the _fuck_ is your problem?"

Derek is on the floor in his wolf-form, blood still matted in his fur. He lifts his head at Stiles's words.

"Stiles..." Scott says warily. 

" _Shut up_ ," he hisses, storming further into the loft. "Come on, Derek, answer me!"

"Dude, he almost died."

"Exactly! What's his—what is your problem? Huh? Why the hell do you have this _pathological need_ to put yourself in danger?"

With a groan, Derek shifts back into a human and heaves himself up into a standing position.

Stiles splutters and puts a perfunctory hand over his eyes. "Jesus Christ, put some pants on."

"I don't do it on _purpose_ , Stiles," he snaps, completely ignoring the request. "It just happens."

"Yeah, well, stop it!"

Derek rolls his eyes. "Why do you even care?"

"You know," Scott clears his throat. "I think I'm just gonna go—"

"You wanna know why I care?" Stiles snaps, dropping his hand and taking a step closer. "I'll fucking tell you why I care!"

"Yeah, so tell me!"

" _Because_ —as crazy as it seems—I don't _actually_ want you to die!"

Stiles faintly registers the door slamming behind Scott, but he's too incensed to do much more than tremble. The slope of Derek's neck is inches away and Stiles wants to suck so hard it _hurts_. 

"Well maybe _I_ don't want _you_ to die either!" Derek exclaims.

There's a moment of shocked silence. Derek is breathing hard, chest heaving and still slicked with sweat. 

_"What?"_ Stiles spits. 

Derek grinds out a frustrated noise and spins away, stalking towards the spiral staircase. 

Stiles glares at his ass as it flexes with each step.

"Do you ever stop and think before you say things?" he asks as he spins around. Stiles tears his gaze away from the cock hanging heavy between Derek's thighs a beat too late. 

"I think all the time," he spits back belatedly. "Most recently I've been thinking you're an idiot because you tried to take on two rogue omegas at the _same_ _time_!"

"Yeah," Derek scoffs. "Says the idiot who was about to be mauled by them!"

"I had my bat!"

"And they had claws and teeth," he snaps. "What do you think would've happened if they had gotten any closer to you?"

"So, what—what are you even saying? That you almost got killed for _me_?" He throws his arms up in the air. "Why?"

_"Why?"_ Derek repeats incredulously, voice louder than Stiles has ever heard it. "Goddammit, Stiles—"

He strides forward suddenly, pushing Stiles backwards until he's pressed up against the wall.

"What are you—" Stiles starts shakily, but he's abruptly cut off when the wet heat of Derek's mouth descends on his. He makes a noise deep in his throat, hands coming up to clutch desperately at Derek's bare shoulders.

" _That's_ why," Derek hisses fiercely against his lips.

Stiles sags against the wall, fingers threading into Derek's hair and tugging him back down to his mouth. 

"Don't you _ever_ ," he mumbles wildly, gasping when Derek's tongue slips into his mouth and slides against his, "do something that stupid again. _Holy_ —" Derek moves away from his lips, mouthing along his jaw and down his neck. 

"Yeah, okay, I won't," he says flippantly, biting at his collar-bones. "Is this alright?"

Stiles's hips jerk upwards. "Yeah, yes, oh _fuck_ —why didn't we do this sooner?"

"Because you're always too busy yelling at me."

"Because you're always on the _verge of death_!"

"Shut _up_ ," Derek groans, slipping a thigh between Stiles's legs and making him suck in a breath. 

"Fuck you," Stiles whines, rolling his hips against him. "I hate you so much."

" _Liar."_

Stiles pulls him back up to his mouth, kissing him roughly. Derek's hands slide down to his thighs and pull him up abruptly, and he carries him all the way across the loft and tosses him unceremoniously onto the bed. 

Stiles grunts when he hits the mattress, breath catching in his throat when he catches sight of Derek standing at the foot of the bed, backlit from a lamp by the couch. He's beautiful and uncut, thick cock nestled in a thatch of dark hair and curving up towards his belly-button. Stiles's mouth waters just looking at it. 

"Are we really doing this?" He asks hoarsely, feeling his own dick throb in the confines of his pants. He reaches a hand down to squeeze himself through his jeans, and Derek groans, putting one knee on the bed. His cock bobs eagerly.    

"Yeah," he mutters. "Wanna see you. Are you hard?"

" _Duh._ "

He lets out another ragged breath, starts to undo Stiles's jeans while Stiles wrestles with his shirt. He's still struggling to get it over his head when Derek seals his mouth around the head of his dick, sucking lightly. 

"Jesus Christ!" Stiles yelps. "Oh fuck, _Derek_." 

Derek pins his hips to the bed with two strong hands, keeping that maddening pressure on the tip of his cock; circling the head with his tongue lightly. Stiles is left gasping for breath, wishing he could just thrust up into Derek's mouth. Stiles lets out another wanton moan, sending his shirt flying somewhere over to the right and Derek pops off with an obscene noise. 

"Can I fuck you?" he asks, as he bends to lick up the length of Stiles's shaft. 

"Yes, yes, come on, do it," Stiles babbles, spreading his legs as wide as they'll go. Derek buries a muffled curse in the base of his cock, and suddenly there's a tongue slipping lower and lower, over his balls and—

"Turn over," Derek commands suddenly, and then Stiles is scrambling to get on his knees, arching his back so his ass is spread wide; presented. Derek's tongue skates around his rim, probing in hungrily, his beard scratching roughly against the sensitive skin. Stiles bites back a sob. 

Derek gets him wet and messy, leaking and whining and _begging_ for "Just one finger Derek, come on just one, _please_ I need something," before he finally— _fucking finally_ —presses in with a finger. Stiles shoves his whole body down, writhes at the glorious pressure, but it's not enough. 

"More," he gasps and Derek humps his straining cock up against the back of Stiles's thigh and shoves another finger inside. 

Stiles makes a truly _spectacular_ noise and tosses his head back against the pillows. 

"I've wanted to do this for so long," Derek breathes as he works another finger inside, crooking them just right and making another load of precome blurt out of the tip of Stiles's dick and pool on the covers. He rubs his stubble against Stiles's back, sucks hard at a spot on his neck. "Fuck, you make me _crazy_ —"

"Shut up," Stiles groans, voice breaking. "Go get the lube so you can fuck me already."

"Bossy," he grumbles, withdrawing his fingers completely and slapping his ass before rolling off the bed. Stiles make a bereft noise; feels empty and unsatisfied. He jacks himself a few times, toes curling at the pleasure, but then Derek is back and knocking his hand away again. 

"Are you fucking serious," Stiles groans, dick jerking up and tagging him in the stomach, leaving a clear trail of precome in the hair there. 

"Don't touch yourself," he growls, and Stiles heaves in a breath. " _I_ want to make you come."

"Hurry up and do it then," he demands, looking over his shoulder at Derek's flushed face and bruised lips. Derek gives him a bitchface before shoving three lubed up fingers inside of him. Stiles cries out, hand scrabbling around until he finds a pillow to hold on to. 

It doesn't take long for Derek to take his fingers away again and press the blunt head of his cock up against Stiles's gaping hole. He tries to sink down on it almost immediately, but Derek holds his hips in place, preventing him from doing anything but feeling the light, teasing pressure of it. _God_ , he wants to rock down, take it all in, feel Derek fill him up—but he _can't_.  

" _Derek_ ," he moans helplessly, cock heavy and aching between his legs.

"Yeah," he huffs, giving a little thrust in. "Yeah, _fuck_ , okay. Ready?"

Stiles gives him an impatient, " _Yes,_ " and then Derek pushes all the way in, stretching him open and robbing him of all coherency. He waits for a second; gives one slow thrust to let Stiles get his bearings, and then with a strangled moan from both of them he speeds up, cock spearing deep into Stiles, thrusts hard and fast and desperate. His balls slap against Stiles's skin with each movement, and it sounds obscene in the otherwise quiet loft.

Stiles muffles a moan in a pillow—teeth catching and pulling at the fabric when Derek tweaks a nipple and hikes his hips up higher to change the angle.

Derek keeps fucking into him relentlessly, hands sliding everywhere except between his legs, where Stiles wants him the most. He makes an effort to jack himself off again, but his arms feel like jelly and Derek pushes his hands away again. 

" _Don't,_ " he says, voice low and rough, tinged with something inhuman. Stiles thinks if he looked over his shoulder right now, he'd see blue eyes staring back at him. The thought shouldn't make everything that much hotter, but it _does_ , and he meets Derek's thrusts with a jerky undulation of his hips, groaning restlessly. 

"Come on," he gasps shamelessly. Derek lets out a broken noise behind him. "Come _on_ , please, _touch me_ , _Derek._ I _—_ oh, you _asshole_ —I need to—oh, _fuck_ , I need to come so badly, so close—"

He cuts himself off with a high noise when Derek finally gives in and curls one hand around Stiles's cock. The pressure feels so welcome after being deprived of it that Stiles almost shoots off right then, but he manages to hold off by sheer force of will. He wants to _enjoy_ this, damn it. 

"You like that?" Derek growls in his ear, tightening his grip on an upstroke as he slams into Stiles again. 

"Yeah," he gasps breathlessly. "Yeah, yeah, yeah...just like that—"

Both of them groan on a particularly sharp thrust and Stiles is _right_ there, teetering on the edge, feels that familiar feeling tingling up his legs and tightening his balls. He's helpless to stop it now, just gets a little more frantic in meeting Derek's thrusts, moving back and forth between his cock and his hand—almost out of his mind with how _good_ it feels—fuck, he's going to come, he's going to come _any fucking minute_ and it's going to be mind-blowing—

And then Derek stops. 

His hand falls away from Stiles's cock and his thrusts still. The head of his dick is still inside of Stiles, but it feels woefully inadequate after the thorough fucking that was just going on. Fuck. All he wants to do is _come his brains out._ He lets out a frustrated groan through his teeth. 

"Derek, don't stop, don't stop," he pants, rubbing his sweaty forehead restlessly on a pillow. His attempts to shove his hips back down are thwarted by a set of strong hands _again_. "What the fuck," he groans. "What are you _doing_?" 

"Just—just give me a second," Derek snaps.

Stiles looks over his shoulder, sees him breathing hard, eyes flaring blue. Stiles's cock twitches in excitement, sending an electric buzz through the rest of his body, his sore balls. He moans and Derek tightens his grip on him.  

"Stiles," he groans, eyebrows collapsed together in concentration. "I'm sorry— _fuck_ I can't—" he sucks in a breath through his teeth, "I can't help it. I'm going to knot."

Stiles's eyes roll back in his head at the words, arms almost giving out. "Fuck _yeah_ ," he groans loudly. "Do it, do it, oh my _God_ , Derek, _do it_ , fill me up—"

With a wild noise, Derek shoves back in, and Stiles can already feel the way the base of his cock is thicker, engorged. It makes all the nerves in his body sing in anticipation. He feels like he's going to break apart any minute. 

"Feel so good," Derek's gasping behind him. "Fuck, Stiles, you feel _so good_ —"

"Do it," Stiles cries into the pillow, humping his hips helplessly, desperate for some friction. " _Knot me._ "

He shoves frantically back inside of him once, twice, _three times,_ hand coming around to squeeze Stiles's cock and give him a few rough strokes. His rim is stretching more with each thrust, balls tightening again, and—

Derek shoves back inside one last time before he lets out a long, drawn-out moan and shudders. Stiles feels the pressure increase, feels the way Derek's hand tightens spasmodically on the head of his dick, and he can't hold it back anymore; he comes with a loud, relieved groan, spurting thick ropes of come all over Derek's sheets, arms shaking. 

Derek whines when Stiles comes, grinds his cock inside of him a little more. His orgasm continues long after Stiles's, cock twitching inside him as he empties his balls, hips circling minutely. His hands hold Stiles's hips flush with his own. Every now and again he twitches, lets out a broken noise, jags his hips a little. He seems to come for  _forever_. 

Stiles is breathing heavily, heart thudding in his chest. He feels fucked out, kitten weak. Doesn't even protest when Derek collapses on his side and takes Stiles with him.

"That was amazing," he croaks, an inordinate amount of time later. 

Derek mumbles an unintelligible agreement and lazily sucks a hickey on his neck. 

"We're doing this again, right?" Stiles asks, shifting his ass a little and making both of them groan. 

"Sure," Derek deadpans, biting him lightly. "Just as soon as one of us almost dies again."

"Ugh," he groans, elbowing him in the ribs. "Shut up."  


End file.
